She Needs a Hero
by HolliiiCruiser
Summary: Post-Doomsday, Reunion-y! "She needs someone to save her from this; this empty, aching batch of nothing. She needs a hero. It’s not fair that she only feels alive when those visions fill her head. It's not fair that she clings to them."


**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Doctor Who.**_

**She Needs a Hero**

There's a certain point of time in which a person drifts between the dark clouds of unconsciousness and the harder planes of being awake. They flitter, back and forth: thoughts and pocket-fulls of moments flashing before tired eyes, some lingering, some shifting away as fast as they'd come. Those are the ones that matter, whether you want them to or not. Those are the glimpses of a life lost, a life never truly had. Those are the memories that haunt you.

It should come as no surprise which moments Rose Tyler's exhausted mind pulls up just before she's fully asleep, the same ones that bleed into her dreams and give her no reprieve. She sees him in every particle in everything around her every day, could she have no rest? Here she was, sheets wrapped around her legs, hands welded to her head, stuck between not wanting to remember and terrified of forgetting a single, shining moment.

She needs someone to save her from this; this empty, aching batch of nothing. She needs a hero. It's not fair that she only feels alive when those visions fill her head. It's not fair that they haunt her for days after. It's not fair how she clings to them, afraid that if she doesn't have them, she'll have _nothing._

The rain splashes heavy and hard against her window, always keeping perfect time. It does nothing to comfort her. She thinks she hears footsteps beating along with it, yet another reminder of what she's lost. _Slap, slap, slap. _The same noises flat-bottomed Converses make on the feet of a man always running. She wonders why they sound so close when he's so impossibly far away.

The wind whistles, mixing with the rain and she thinks she hears the _click _and _whirl _of his sonic screwdriver, endlessly searching for her, trying to cut through the void between them. When the lightning flashes, its blue light that flashes through her window and creeps up her bedcovers.

In the next moment, all is quiet and dark, the impossible calm in the middle of a raging storm. She swears she hears breathing, breathing that's not quite normal. The kind of breathing no human has after running through the rain. It's barely labored, just the slightest bit faster than it should be. She crawls to the edge of the bed, jumping back when a shimmering hand pulls open the window. She's lost it, she tells herself. Her mind has cracked and this is what she's left with: fantasies that will never be realized.

The wind kicks back up, blowing harder and dragging a word through her now open window. "_Rose."_ A leg is kicked through the opening, and the minimal light gathers around the bright white toe of a trainer she'd recognize anywhere. All of him is climbing in next, hearts in his eyes, rain and tears falling onto his long-since-soaked suit jacket. She chokes back a sob, flinging herself at his wet from. He grabs her up, smelling stronger in the rain, and whispers in her ear.

_"I've found you. I've found you."_

"You've got no coat!" She mumbles back, hysteria bubbling in her voice. Her dreams are never this realistic. She takes his hand, leading him back to her bed.

They fall in and she's not sure who's holding who tightest as, finally, she sleeps without nightmares.

There's a certain point of time in which a person drifts between the dark clouds of unconsciousness and the harder planes of being awake. Eventually, being awake will win out and, slowly, they will start to resurface, dreams fading into the background as the thoughts of what has to be done today take front and center. But, sometimes, once in a long while, your mind doesn't want to let go, doesn't want to relinquish the dream. So, you hover, trying to remember why those dreams are so important, why they saturate you.

Her mind is insistent, dragging thoughts and word in front of her. Then she remembers. She remembers fully every touch, adventure, every shining moment. They're untarnished and unfaded, even though she'd done her best to lock them away forever.

They're still just dreams, she tells herself, and even if she can remember them, all they can bring her is pain. She is alone.

Then, she realizes that her sheets are damp and something rustles next to her.

Her eyes fly open and…

… he's still there, head propped up on his hand and hearts still in his eyes.

It wasn't a dream.

"Hello again."

**The End.**


End file.
